


False Coin

by dr_gradus



Category: Chalion Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen, Payback, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 09:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20469161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_gradus/pseuds/dr_gradus
Summary: What goes round, unfortunately, comes around.





	False Coin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acrosticacrumpet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrosticacrumpet/gifts).

“Captain, she wants to see you.”

He jerked up out of his cot in fuddled surprise; he’d been half asleep. He blinked at the soldier standing to attention at the door of his sleeping cell. “What do you mean, _She?_”

“M’lady Provincara. In twenty minutes, she said.”

Now he was wide awake.

He’d barely seen his employer, these last few weeks. He’d ridden back to Valenda from Cardegoss as part of the force escorting the Royesse and her dead brother. An honour guard, and rather more, led by the Chancellor. He had been deputed, by the mighty dy Jironal himself, to act as the Royesse’s personal bodyguard, since he was known to her from her youth; but when they got to the town the old Provincara had spotted him, calmly informed the sputtering Chancellor that he was one of her personal guard, and kept him by her. Though she had treated him with no particular favour, after that; he rather thought she had been watching him.

In one way it was something of a relief, not to be too closely under dy Jironal’s eye. He knew too much about the man, what he was capable of. What his brother had been capable of. It also meant he was spared from censure, when the Royesse disappeared. Though not from galloping out after her with the rest of the army, and the normally sober Chancellor at the head, splitting the very air with his profanities. Not spared from witnessing whatever… had _happened_, that afternoon in Taryoon. Had the Chancellor really been struck by divine lightning, for running that mad fool through? Was he remembering it properly?

He had crept back to Valenda, trying not to think about it. After that, the Provincara had dismissed him from her personal retinue, as abruptly as she had required his attendance in the first place. When she rode off with her deranged daughter, to see the coronation of the young Royina and her Ibran consort, he’d been left behind. Assigned to no duties.

At least he was safe, here. Safe from those who had known him, known what he had done.

(Not that Iselle had ever realised, he thought. Though the mad fool had known, somehow. And he thought some of the court bravoes had suspected. But the fool was in Cardegoss with the girl-queen and that cute, dimpled attendant of hers, and any of Dondo’s cronies who might have fingered him had presumably fled to the four corners of Chalion by now. They were unlikely to show their faces in Valenda any time soon.)

But he was _bored._ He’d been cooling his heels for weeks, now. He’d always liked action; why he’d joined the Provincar’s guard, all those years ago. At least the old lady might give him something to do. Perhaps that was why she had sent for him. He was equal in rank to any in the guard here, and the men were getting soft. They could use some firm leadership. The kind he could provide.

A good impression was crucial. Quickly he changed his clothes. He needed to look right for this. Clean: a quick wash and shave. Not too foppish – serviceable leathers, not court dress – but a man of substance. A few jewels would not look amiss. The cloak-pin the old Provincar had given him. The diamond stud in his ear. His second favourite ring. Not the first. (A true emerald, whatever the fool had tried to insinuate. Too flash for this purpose, though.) But a good sapphire, nonetheless; though he tried not to think of where he had acquired it. He had worn it a lot recently.

He was ready. He buckled on his scabbard and followed the soldier out of the sleeping quarters, blinking in the bright sun, and across the courtyard to the great keep.

Dy Ferrej was waiting for him at the door to the west hall. He tried to read some hint of his fate in the warder’s face. It was closed and still, the dark eyes unreadable, as usual. He was surprised dy Ferrej was still dancing attendance on the old woman, with his daughter now raised to sit among the great of the realm, the Royina’s personal confidante. Surely – what was her name now, Betti? – she could find some plush sinecure at court for her father. Leaving a place empty here, perhaps, a place that could be filled by an able, ambitious man.

The warder opened the door. “He is here, your Grace.”

“Come in, Captain.”

The drapes were half drawn across the windows; the room was in semi-darkness apart from a shaft of light from a skylight, just in front of the old lady. He walked confidently forward, came to a stop in the light. Let her see him clearly. Let her know this was a man to be reckoned with.

“Captain, now that things have settled down somewhat, I have been taking thought to certain matters pertaining to my household.”

He had been right. There were going to be changes…

“Among those matters are the future management of my guards, here in Valenda.”

_Seize this chance!_ “A wise thought, your Grace. One I have been thinking much about myself, these last few weeks. I have some suggestions which I think might meet with your Grace’s approval. May I continue?”

“I think not, Captain.” In the semi-dark her face was a blur; her hooded eyes were hard to make out.

“My household finds itself somewhat reduced of late. Though my royal daughter remains with us, her children do not. One, obviously, is in the Zangre now. The other is in the ground. And with the recent turmoil I have come to realise that my strength to take a part in great affairs is less than it was. It is time I resigned affairs in Baocia fully to my son, who will rule the province from Taryoon. I fear Valenda will become a quieter place than it has been. It will need fewer soldiers. A smaller guard.”

_Wait – what?..._

“I regret to say there will be no place for you in the new arrangement.” There was no _regret_ in her voice at all. She might have been discussing the price of beetroot.

Well, this was unexpected… but there were possibilities here, nonetheless. “I grieve to hear it, your Grace, but I understand. So I am to join the Provincar in Taryoon?”

“No. Taryoon has no need of you.”

The room seemed to be swaying slightly. “Your Grace… my lady… I… I am confused.” It was all he could muster.

“There need be no confusion, Captain. I am informing you that your service to the House dy Baocia is at its end. You are being released.”

A crossbow-bolt to the gut. His stomach was churning; he was sweating. “Your Grace, I beg you… why? I have served you well. Served you loyally, and your grandchildren likewise. I thought…” his voice was cracking. “…I thought the House dy Baocia valued loyalty.”

_“Loyalty.”_

The old woman stood abruptly. She swayed slightly; her hand found the high backrest of her chair. Even in the shadows, he could feel the complete unhooding of her eyes. He was a fly, pinned in place by her scorching gaze.

Her voice shook. “You are correct, captain. I have always valued loyalty, prized those who gave it, despised those who shirked it. Especially where my grandchildren are concerned. I think, for example, of their tutors. Loyal men, both of them…”

He could feel the colour draining from his face. What did she know? _What in the Bastard’s hell did she know?_

“Cazaril. Loyal to my husband, to my granddaughter, to the realm, to the point of death it would seem. Though alive enough, now. His loyalty is rewarded by Iselle, with the Chancellorship of the realm no less.”

_What!? The mad fool!? _The room was spinning now.

“And dy Sanda. A lesser man than Cazaril, certainly. But not lesser in his loyalty. He too was faithful unto death, striving to protect my poor Teidez from those whose loyalty was…more flexible.” The last word was spat out.

He could barely stand. “My lady… please…” He could feel tears starting in his eyes; desperately he sought to rally, to recover his dignity. “I am at a loss to understand you.” It was a weak attempt.

“Teidez was not an easy boy. He saw off three other tutors before dy Sanda arrived, did you know that? And did his best to see off a fourth. But dy Sanda had more grit in him than was apparent to the eye. He knew his charge might have the realm on his shoulders one day. He was determined to make Teidez fit to bear it. When he had lasted two years – three times as long as any of his predecessors – I made him a gift, to acknowledge his… _loyalty…_ and show the gratitude of my house. It had belonged to my late husband.

It was a sapphire ring.”

He was on his knees now, weeping openly. He felt rather than saw her approach. Heard the _clack_ of her heels on the stone floor.

“And you come into my presence. Claiming loyalty. Having killed a decent man. Having robbed his corpse.” The old voice was shaking, but not with age. _“Wearing my husband’s ring, in my sight.”_

He never saw the blow coming. It was stronger than a frail old woman ought to have been able to produce. It stretched him on the floor.

“You are a very great fool, Captain. Though Cazaril had warned me…”

_Of course! The fool had been here before he arrived! _He scrambled shakily back to his knees.

“…I might have been prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt. Had it not been for your insistence on wearing that ring.

You will take it off, _now,_ and return it to me.”

His hands were trembling so hard he could barely grasp it, but at length he held it out. The withered fingers closed around it.

“You will leave Valenda now. You may take the time to retrieve such belongings as you may have in your quarters.”

He could barely see as he stood. She had turned away. He might as well not have been there.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic... in one of my favourite universes. Hope you like it.


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